I sat in my room, huddled in the corner, right beside the piles of junk, a place I seemed to belong. The kid had reset again—after killing me, of course. Since then, they had left the Ruins, met Papyrus and I, walked through all his puzzles, and dusted a handful of monsters. Papyrus left the house to wait for the kid just a few minutes ago. According to my internal clock, that meant that in less than 1,443 seconds—which amounted to a little under half an hour—Papyrus would be dead. There was nothing I could do about it.
I gazed sadly at the ground, numbly fingering my hoodie's silver zipper charm. My mind was akin to the snow outside: cold, vulnerable to meltdown, and void of color or defining texture between lumps. After an immeasurable stretch of empty thoughts, a single phrase flashed to the surface. "Glitched game, human's bane." I'd almost forgotten about the strange encounter with the riverperson.
Slowly, I raised my head, my eyes falling on the bookshelf across the room. As if magnetized, my gaze was suddenly drawn unnaturally high; there, atop the last shelf, coated in a thin layer of dust, was a binder. Confused, I rose. I'd never noticed it before.
After deciding climbing the shelf would be too tiring and dangerous, I hauled a box over, and giving an impressive jump, managed to grab the corner of the binder. I hadn't noticed the stack of papers peeking out from under the cover, and when I pulled it down, they all slipped free, scattering across the floor. Annoyed, I stooped to gather the pages. Then I noticed what was on them. Wingdings. These were Gaster's notes.
I stared at the papers in shock. Most of Gaster's research had disappeared when he did. Why hadn't these? Also, what were they doing here, in my room? Why? Now I was curious. Finally, something new was happening! Carefully, I moved to the center of the room, cleared a space, and sat. Gathering all the pages together, I straightened the stack. Picking up the closest object—which happened to be a large rubber-band ball—I absentmindedly fiddled with it and began reading the papers through one by one.
Within minutes, I was thoroughly confused, intrigued, and worried. Gaster never mentioned this stuff. It was like nothing I'd ever known, yet some of it was disturbingly familiar. A few entries stood out to me in particular. As my gaze scanned down the lines, the symbols turned to letters in my mind.
Entry 304
I have begun to suspect there is something beyond our world, our scope of reality. There is something else. Our lives are not entirely our own. It seems to me that there is a power outside our own will that guides our paths. For months now, I have observed strange compulsory behavior in those around me. I have felt bits of it myself. I must explore this.
Entry 305
After much fact-digging and science-bending, I have discovered something: a strange magic, which I shall write about once refined. But, it affects a thing called "code." In more common words, it is like… Ah! It is like a script!
At the term "script," I gasped. gaster knew about the script?! So, I wasn't losing my mind. The script was real! Apparently, it was called "code." Shivering slightly, I continued to read.
The script suggests our course of action with important decisions. My guess is that it keeps us in line with our destiny. Now that I am aware of it, I can't help but notice it everywhere I go. How does no one else see? I wonder… if I deviate from this script, what will happen?
Entry 306
This does not bode well. Ever since I began observing these anomalies, my soul has begun to crack.
My eyes widened. All this was too close to reality for comfort.
It would seem that disobeying the script has made it worse, but it is hard to tell for sure. I fear what this could mean. The more I learn and discover, the more I wish to liberate monsterkind from the code. Why must we be controlled? Though we can break free, evidently, it causes damage. I must discover the optimal level of code magic. Even though this is not my assignment, I must investigate further.
Entry 307
Things are getting out of control. I've never seen anything like this. The magic I wrote of works, but not as expected. The world, no—the universe!, the very fabric of our existence can be modified. I can see the script. The key to it was in my own soul. I found it by accident, but oh, what luck! I have found that I can observe the "script" of many inanimate objects by enveloping them with the correct frequency of magic. What would happen if I interacted with the code…? I must experiment on a non-living entity.
Entry 308
It's gone. My desk is gone. After accidentally duplicating a few small things, such as pencils and pebbles, I tried to alter the code of a larger object, namely—my desk. In a frustrated attempt, I hit the rift of code a bit too forcefully, and… I destroyed it completely. This is disturbing to say the least. This power is dangerous.
Entry 309
I got permission from King Asgore to borrow the human souls. I was careful not to destroy anything. After observing them, I have discovered that their code cannot be changed, unlike the monsters and objects I have watched. Perhaps if their environment was changed, they would adapt and become accessible.
On the next page were the stats on the magic frequency Gaster had been messing with. After reading it over, I hesitantly sparked my magic; my mind was reminding me of the line "This power is dangerous." Magic blazed to life, engulfing my hand. Concerned, I looked closely at it. Didn't appear to be anything special, just, typical ping-ing magic. All it did was drain my energy faster than normal. perhaps gaster's magic didn't work like mine, I concluded, shrugging… and had a momentary mental lapse as I picked up the rubber-band ball again.
I shrieked in surprise as a bright blue flash lit up the room. The ball disappeared. Shock was replaced with frustration. hey! i liked that one! where did it—realization hit. i destroyed it. For a moment, I just stared at my empty hands in shock. Trembling, I returned to the papers. I was on the last one.
Entry 310
It has fallen together. Upon trying to bring the human souls into the lab, I discovered something profound. They couldn't go in. It was as if a force field held them out. After much theorizing and investigating, I discovered the reason: it was because my desk was gone. Let me explain.
The desk, I assume, originated inside the lab, for it seems to have always been there. It was part of the room. Now that it is destroyed, or "deleted," the room is incomplete. It caused an imbalance. I had the desk replaced. Once it was back, the souls could enter. After some more experimentation, I think I understand now.
My hypothesis is as follows: human souls require a complete script in order to interact with our world. Now, little things can be missing or different, but if something important is gone, the human soul cannot enter. Just as the lab continued to exist without the desk, so the world would exist without each of its components. But the bigger the change, the more isolated the world becomes; when I destroyed larger objects, the souls couldn't get near the lab. Until the anomaly—until the glitch—is fixed, the souls are unable to enter.
I leapt up. The papers scattered across the floor, some fluttering under the bookshelf, out of reach. But I didn't care. I knew what I had to do: I would drastically change the code. The human's code couldn't be destroyed, that was true. But if I destroyed the code of something else important in the world, then the child would be booted out. And I knew something that matched the criteria, something that was key in the storyline.
I didn't care about the consequences. It would free my world! Alphys, Grillby, Fuku, Asgore, Undyne, Gerson, Tem, Mettaton, Napstablook, the people of Snowdin, even the annoying flower! And, my greatest wish would come true: Papyrus would be safe. Happy. I couldn't live to see him die again. For once in my life, for the first time, I knew I could save him.
I bolted. Running as fast as my short legs would allow, I raced towards the river path. I had to keep the human from killing Papyrus. The empty streets echoed back my frantic scrambling. I didn't dare use a shortcut for such a long distance; I was going to need all the magical energy I could muster.
As I got in sight, I knew I was too late. The human was approaching Papyrus. I wasn't going to make it! Desperate, I forced out the last bit of speed I had, going faster, too breathless to call out. The child pulled back the knife—suddenly, I felt a spike of energy. With one more bounding step, there was a flash of light—
One second I was looking on helplessly as the child swung at Papyrus. The next moment I was right in front of him. My momentum carried me forward, launching me into my brother, tackling him to the ground—as the knife slashed across my back. It cut right through my jacket and shirt, carving a deep rift into my shoulder blades. I was doomed before we even hit the ground. Papyrus, realizing what had happened, gasped in surprise and horror.
"NO, NO, NO! SANS!" he cried. Scrambling to his knees, he scooped me up, hugging tight, as if that would prevent me from turning to dust. Distantly, I felt the weird red wet stuff soak the back of my jacket, and I wondered once more what it was.
Before the human could recover from their surprise, I pushed past my pain and yanked up a huge wall of bones around Papyrus and I. An angry growl slipped past the human's clenched teeth and they swung their knife in attempt to break the barricade. Instead, it was the blade that shattered. The child stumbled back, gasping in dismay. They seemed almost afraid. Even as I grew weaker, the wall grew thicker, stronger. Hurriedly, the human pulled up the reset menu, glaring daggers at me, muttering "stupid glitch."
I was starting to dissolve. Time was running out. I had to delete something, now! Fighting to focus my blurring gaze, I looked up at Papyrus. He was crying, tears streaming down his face. When he saw that I was looking at him, I smiled, and whispered—
"i love you bro." With a final burst of magic, I enveloped myself in glowing blue and snapped my fingers—activating the attack—right as the human hit "Reset."